


Late

by quentintarrantino



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 14:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quentintarrantino/pseuds/quentintarrantino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q would reflect on these things later in life and conclude being involved with him was the most impractical and unsafe thing he could’ve done for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late

Q was a practical man, he survived this long and somehow had managed to get swept up into the messy business of espionage but despite that last fact he would say that overall he was still a pretty cautionary person. It was an admirable trait in his book, he didn’t fly (the odds of crashing were far too high and what would MI6 do without him?), he didn’t go out in the field, and he didn’t wander around London at night.

So with these things in mind why was he allowing himself to be dragged down a dark alleyway in Dublin at two in the morning with four thugs in hot pursuit? Perhaps it was the fact that if he stopped they would catch up and shoot him and that was not the ultimate goal here, it was to not get shot. The man tugging him along finally stopped and Q, numb from the cold and breathless from all the running merely leaned against the brick wall beside him and swallowed thickly. “Well I think we can all agree this evening could’ve ended better don’t you?”

James Bond was not a practical man, he jumped out of airplanes, shot at people (part of the reason they were in this mess) and ventured further than the field. Q would reflect on these things later in life and conclude being involved with him was the most impractical and unsafe thing he could’ve done for himself. 007 was currently reloading his gun a few feet from the Quartermaster, looking up when he spoke and chuckled quietly. “A little excitement will do you good dear you’ve been looking dreadfully pale these last few days.”

“I always look dreadfully pale!” Q snapped but his complaints were cut short as Bond grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him near to snag his lips. It was all very good and nice and maybe for a few moments he forgot that he was freezing and damp and fearing for his life but it was cut short as the agent separated himself and smiled gently, then turned right around and fired two rounds into the dark, and then two dead men fell face first onto the street.

“Two down, two to go.” He sighed, glancing over to Q. “Are you alright?”

Q was no stranger to guns, he shot them regularly in the lab to study angles and speeds, he had just never really seen them used for their true purpose. However he would rather them than him and clearing his throat he turned and began walking down the alley deeper into the dark. “Don’t ask stupid questions of course I’m alright-,” a bullet whizzed past his ear close enough to stir his hair and his haughty reply turned quickly into a startled yelp as Bond lunged forward and tackled him to the ground getting his new jumper soaked in a puddle and rendering his jacket useless as the lining got wet.

The field was decidedly the worst place he had ever chanced upon.

“Sorry darling I’m going to need you to stay put for a few moments, here take this.” Bond’s words reached him over the ringing in his ears from the sound of gunfire and he recoiled as a handgun was pressed into his palms. “Just in case.”

Q felt 007’s weight push off of him and he was left cowering in a puddle on his stomach with a gun he didn’t know he would be able to fire if need be. The shadows kept him covered as the last two thugs advanced on James. The first one was taken down with relative ease, head bashed against the wall and he did not get up to fight again but the second punched Bond right as he turned to face him, knocking his head at an odd angle and making him stagger.

Q had analyzed many fights in the lab to see where this could be headed. 007 lost his balance and the criminal was a quick draw, Bond wouldn’t be able to counterattack fast enough. The Quartermaster felt the weight of the gun in his hand as his feet found purchase on the concrete. “Excuse me!” he yelled, making the thug hesitate to turn, his firearm was a pistol, older model. “That man you’re about to shoot is my date this evening!” he might’ve been scared but he was also a little bit irritated that these idiots thought they could just march in.

The man seemed confused as to what he was saying and Q saw that Bond was still down, struggling to stand with the thug’s foot on his chest and he realized that this just wouldn’t do and he was only a few feet away. Moving quickly before he had time to think about it he raised the gun 007 had given to him and shot the man in his kneecap, striding up to kick his gun away and then level his own at the felled man’s forehead. It had been easier than shooting a target at the range.

Q looked over to Bond, now half up, wiping the blood off of his face. “I thought for sure I would get out of paying for dinner this time around.” He sighed.

The Quartermaster’s lips twitched as he offered a hand to help his counterpart up which he accepted. “In your dreams.” He retorted, never letting his gun stray but using his coat sleeve to wipe away some of the blood oozing from Bond’s split lip. “Looks like I’m going to have to patch you up again tonight, do try to be more careful 007.” He tutted, handing the gun to the agent who took it and pulled the trigger without batting an eyelash. Q kept his eyes rooted on Bond as this happened, he still had a lot to learn about an agent’s duties but this was a bit too much for him right now. James appeared to notice as he dropped the weapon on the dead man’s chest and glanced up at Q.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured.

The other man shrugged, sticking his hands in his wet jacket. “It happens I suppose, I can’t take you anywhere.” Q attempted to sound as put-out as possible. Bond smiled instead and raised Q’s chin to inspect his face where a bruise was forming on his cheekbone from colliding painfully with the ground.

The jaunt had appeared to have gotten his adrenaline pumping, his eyes were wide and his chest was heaving, red splotches on his cheeks from the exhilaration. “Are you hurt?” 007 questioned, routine run through.

Q set his jaw and smacked the hand away, turning towards the street and beginning to walk. “Of course not, the only thing that will be hurting is my hand tomorrow from filling out all this bloody paperwork!” he called over his shoulder. “I just want to get dinner and then go back to the hotel, if you can stand to keep the chases to a minimum from now on.”

Bond sighed, jogging to catch up, wondering idly if perhaps Q was upset with him for the disturbance but after a few moments of quiet walking he felt the familiar spidery fingers worm their way into his coat pocket where he let them wind around his own. Q’s hands were one of James’s favorite parts, they were smooth and white and surprisingly strong, while his own were rough and tanned from his line of work. His companion’s thumb stroked over his bruising knuckles and he looked over to him, trying to suppress a grin of affection at his overall rumpled appearance. “The blush is becoming on you.” He commented idly, delighted that the red just became more apparent on Q.

“I am going to order the most expensive item on the menu.” The Quartermaster muttered.

Bond lifted his head skyward at the stars in the cold air. “I am looking forward to watching you eat it, then dragging you to the hotel where I can get you out of those clothes.”

Q faltered for a moment. “Can we just order room service then? I feel like a wet dog.”

007 only nodded, untangling their hands to sling an arm around Q’s shoulder. “Let’s take a hot shower, I am positive you packed another equally hideous jumper somewhere in that bag of yours.”

“Oh that’s rich James. Really.” Came the not so amused response which only made the agent laugh.


End file.
